PERV
by Ad Absurdum
Summary: It's Mansell's wedding party, Kent sings, Chandler is thoroughly out of his depth and Miles & Mansell are clearly up to something.


**Disclaimer:** Characters - not mine. No profit made.  
**A/N:** Takes place during yet another of Mansell's wedding parties, but after episode S3E03.  
The title of course refers to what is written on Kent's forehead after he wakes up in S3E01.  
This fic can be blamed in its entirety on 01:37 of Colour Of Bone's new single "Sympathiser" (I should've never been allowed to get into that band. Never.) 

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**PERV**

Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler sat and stared at Detective Constable Kent in amazement.

The sight was certainly one to behold. It was mesmerising, stunning. It made Chandler itch for his Tiger Balm.

"I didn't know Kent could sing", Chandler managed to come out of his hypnotised state as Miles sat beside him at the table.

Drink in hand, Miles glanced to where Kent - three sheets to the wind and not caring a toss about anything - was exercising his vocal chords.

Chandler really didn't think a song about falling in love with 'another nothing' was the best choice for a wedding party, but apparently there was no reasoning with Kent in this state. He'd seen Riley try to persuade Kent to give up the microphone, but the man clutched it to his bosom like a particularly precious piece of evidence. He was stronger than he looked – Riley had no chance.

Though it really wasn't that bad. Kent had a very nice voice actually, even if the lyrics about elephants moving no fools – elegantly or otherwise – made absolutely no sense to Chandler.

"Yeah," Miles took a sip of his beer. "Though he only does it when he's drunk, mind you. Never remembers a thing the day after, or so he says." Miles gave an amused snort.

Kent chose that moment to yelp an impossibly high note and then stumbled against the microphone stand.

Chandler looked on in bemusement.

"You all right there, Kent?" Mansell, a bit more sober for a change, leant over from the embrace of his newly-wedded wife to prop Kent with a supportive hand-on-shoulder.

"Fine," Kent mumbled.

"Finley," Mansell's wife pulled him back to her. "Why doesn't he sing something nice?"

Kent heard her and scowled. " 'm not in the mood."

Mansell's mouth twitched in a barely suppressed laughter. "No?"

"No."

Kent sucked his lower lip in. He looked at Chandler, who was happily conversing with the sergeant, and thought how unfair his life was. Just a few days ago the great and wonderful DI Norroy arrived on the scene and suddenly Chandler had eyes for no one else but her. Particularly not for Kent. And he liked Chandler so much. DI Norroy didn't like him half as much as Kent did, he was sure. And he too could bring Chandler sushi and green tea and anything he wanted. He didn't because bringing meals for his boss would look weird, like he actually wanted to have a dinner with him. It wasn't that Kent didn't want to - he did, but it would still look weird and Chandler might even start to suspect Kent had a crush the size of Australia on him. But he did bring Chandler tea - his favourite and made exactly how the boss liked it. And Chandler still chose DI Norroy to go out with. It was all so unfair.

Kent's eyes watered a little.

"Hey, you okay, mate?" Mansell was still at his elbow.

"Yeah," Kent replied weakly and suddenly felt he'd really drunk too much. "J'st need to sit down for a moment".

"Okay, come on." Mansell in an uncharacteristic gesture of good will, or maybe something else if his smirk was anything to go by, took Kent's arm (while still having his other arm around his wife - it was an impressive display of multitasking) and led him back to the table.

Chandler's table.

The Inspector looked up, frowning, while Miles chose that moment to unobtrusively bugger off.

"Sorry, Sir, but I think Kent's had enough for today."

Mansell didn't sound very apologetic as he pushed Kent to sit on a chair next to Chandler's. "He should be okay as soon as he sleeps the booze off a bit."

Mansell took his wife and went back to dancing, leaving Chandler and Kent staring at each other awkwardly. Kent's gaze was not entirely focussed. He wavered a little in his chair and Chandler was compelled to ask: "Are you sure you're all right?"

Kent's eyes widened at the question. So the boss did care about him after all. He wouldn't ask otherwise, would he? No, he wouldn't. It was lovely that Chandler worried about him.

Kent beamed a sunny smile and didn't even slur his words as he replied. "Yes, Sir."

Chandler didn't look convinced.

Kent blinked rapidly, trying to keep Chandler's face in focus, but eventually gave up and closing his eyes, gently slumped down onto the table.

"Kent?"

The only answer Chandler got was the quiet snuffling as Kent slept.


End file.
